Hands in the Dark
by Demotivation
Summary: Bella Swan has been running from her problems for years, not wanting to get hurt if she lets people close. It's a lifestyle that works, somehow. Until it doesn't, and a green-eyed stranger changes everything. AH, canon couples.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Twilight or the characters, I just borrow them for a bit of fun and torture. No copyright infringement intended.

**Author's note:** I don't know if this is the most original plotline ever – basically, I know what I like in fanfiction, and there was a random phrase that just came to me and begged me to write a story around it. I should warn you that there will be dark themes in here, so if you're bothered by mentions/descriptions of abuse, drug use, depression and surrounding issues... this is really not the fic for you.

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this! And if you decide to leave a review, it makes for a very happy fanfic writer.

**Summary:** Bella has been running from her problems for years, not wanting to get hurt if she lets people close. It's a lifestyle that works, somehow. Until it doesn't, and a green-eyed stranger changes everything. AH, canon couples.

**Hands in the Dark**

**Prologue**

_You're mine now_

The young woman woke with a muffled gasp. For just a second the voice had been so clear, so present, almost as if -

She bolted. The thought was disturbing enough to turn her stomach, and she barely made it to the bathroom before losing the meagre dinner of the previous night.

Finally, when the worst had passed, she slumped down next to the toilet seat, uncaring to the chill of the cold tiles beneath her.

_It's not real. Miles and miles away. Just a stupid dream._

Of course it was a dream. It always was, some variation of the old, by now too familiar theme. Her hands clenched into tight fists almost of their own accord.

_Get a grip._

Bit by bit she made her way to an upright position, rising first on hands and knees and then, when the sudden headache passed, to her feet, using the sink as support.

After she had rinsed her mouth to get rid of the sour taste of her dream and the aftermath the young woman met her reflection's eyes in the mirror above the sink. She studied herself for a moment, pensive.

Pale skin, sallow in the harsh bathroom light, with deep shadows under her eyes giving testament to too many sleepless nights. Dark brown hair in tangled snarls around her face, a few strands clinging to her sweaty forehead. Brown eyes still wide with the last remnants of panic.

Her reflection pulled back full lips in a grim smile. "Bella Swan, you're a fucking mess," she told herself.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hands in the Dark**

**Chapter 1**

The clink of the bottle hitting the counter was barely audible over the pulsing music. Bella made sure it wouldn't fall, then looked at the man in front of her. "Three dollars," she yelled to make herself heard. He paid wordlessly, and she didn't blame him. This close to the amplifiers verbal communication was shaky at best.

She let the pounding bass put rhythm to her steps and a swing in her hips as she made her way to the till, humming along to the sound under her breath – safe in the knowledge that no one would hear a thing of it.

It was so easy to get lost in the routine and the noise of a typical night at _Eclipse_. The club could hardly be called upper class, but it had a regular crowd, it had passable hygiene, and – and this was the best thing, in Bella's eyes – it provided anonymity. The layout was simple: a large dancefloor surrounded by high tables and two circular bars at opposing sides, and to one side a wider area that tried to suggest comfortable seating with a few couches and armchairs.

Working here had been a last resort, but it had proved to be a good thing. There was barely room for thought as she continued her slow circuit of the round bar, handing out drinks and collecting money on autopilot. As usual on Saturday nights, the club was packed, oxygen seemed to be a rare commodity, and it was exactly what she needed.

A while later, though, the hurried pace of the job was catching up. Bella made sure to pick her steps carefully, but she noticed that her limbs seemed to be reacting slower than they should. Just then, a tall blonde joined her inside the bar round, setting down a crate of dirty glasses by the sink.

Bella quickly went over to her after an apologetic smile to the next customer. She touched the woman's shoulder lightly to get her attention. It was habit by now to touch instead of shout, and much easier on her vocal cords.

"Hey, Rose?" she asked once the woman's deep blue eyes were on her. "Cover for me? I'm taking five."

That beautiful face lit up in a grin. "Addict. Get lost." For Rose – never Rosalie, except for when her mother called – this was actually as nice as it got, but there was no heat in the comment. "Careful, though. Marcus was lurking by the doors earlier."

Bella nodded with a grimace. Marcus was the son of the club's owner. He clearly thought he was above everyone else and a creep to boot.

As she passed Rose, she touched the woman's shoulder again to convey her gratitude. It had been daunting and strange at first, as it seemed unbelievably rude to just put her hands on another person without warning, but after two years working behind the bar their special brand of non-verbal communication was familiar and could express quite a lot.

With a quick look around to make sure Marcus was nowhere in sight Bella left the bar and made her way to the unobstrusive door nearby. A sign next to it warned that it was employees only, but that was not a problem, of course.

As soon as the heavy door fell shut behind her, the noise level dropped abruptly, leaving Bella disoriented for a second. She shook her head to clear it and took a step to the side to lean against the uneven brick wall.

The alley on this side of the door was only dimly lit, and so narrow a car wouldn't have been able to fit through. Bella let her eyes adjust to the lighting and fumbled in the pocket of her jeans for the emergency pack of cigarettes she always kept on her for moments just like this one. Her ears were still ringing, and through the door came the muffled vibrations of heavy bass tunes.

For just a moment, it was as if the world stood still. Nothing moved, nothing breathed, there was only Bella and the echo of noise and the faint dripping sounds as rainwater from the earlier downpour joined the puddles in the alley.

It was almost peaceful.

She lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, and let the ensuing wave of relaxation wash over her nerves. It might be the nicotine, or it might just be the habit, but in any case it was badly needed. If she didn't focus, it was only a matter of time until her thoughts interrupted the routine. And it was never pretty.

A glance at her wristwatch confirmed that her shift was far from over. Now was not the time to fall apart.

Taking a drag from her cigarette Bella leaned back and closed her eyes. That was a mistake. The world started spinning immediately, so she slapped her free hand against the wall for added support and opened her eyes wide again.

Five hours of sleep. Or unconsciousness, anyway. _You'd think I'd be used to it,_ she thought surly. It was annoying how her body seemed to have its own ideas of what it needed. All of a sudden, a wave of irritation welled up in her; her fingers itched to do something about the sense of wrongness she suddenly felt in her own skin.

"Get over yourself, Swan," she muttered, and shook her head again. She carded her fingers through her long hair in a haphazard attempt to smooth it back behind her ear. The familiar gesture calmed her a bit. Rose couldn't understand why Bella refused to tie her hair back at work – but then, someone like Rose probably never tried to hide behind it, either.

All too soon the cigarette had burned down to the filter, and Bella dropped it with a grimace. In one movement she stepped on the last embers and turned around.

Out of her head and back into the real world.

Rose barely glanced up at her as she returned to their station, but apparently that was enough. As they passed one another, the blonde touched her shoulder and gave her a questioning look, not even bothering to ask out loud.

Bella returned with what she hoped was a convincing grin. "Four more hours till I pass out," she said. She gave it a playful tone. There was no need to inform Rose that it was the simple truth.

As intended, Rose laughed heartily at her comeback. And that was why Rose was worth keeping around: There was simply nothing affected about her. Her amusement was all genuine, and there was nothing fake about it. Not even the heaving bosom, which Bella would only admit to herself she envied a bit.

Bella winked at her, then turned to find the next thirsty person in line and returned to the blessed world of routine.

She had no concept of how much time had passed, only that it must be nearing the end of her shift, when it happened.

At first everything was normal. Bella faced the next customer, but barely glanced up. Her short glimpse was just enough to get an impression of a shock of tousled brown hair and a dark shirt before she leaned forward. "Yes?" she half yelled to make herself heard.

The unknown man angled his torso toward her as well, and that was when Bella heard the most captivating voice she had ever encountered. It was a balm to her senses even over the din of the club. The wonderful voice said, "two beers, one martini."

With an automatic nod of her head and a mind full of confused thoughts of _velvety_ and _bedroom voice_, Bella hurried to retrieve the drinks. She opened the beer bottles with shaking hands, trying to figure out what was bothering her. She couldn't even recall what the man looked like, but already her heart was racing.

It took too long to fetch the martini, but finally Bella managed to set the glass next to the rest of the order on the counter. She fought a short internal battle before taking a deep breath. Then she looked up, and met the stranger's gaze.

_Oh my god._

Clear green eyes seemed to see right into her very soul, shocking her to the core. The face they belonged to could have been that of a model, all strong lines with a defined jawline and sensual lips she longed to touch. Too late Bella realised she was staring openly at the stranger. Unable to form words, she gathered her wits long enough to hold up ten fingers, using the noise as an excuse for silence. She could only hope he wouldn't notice the trembling of her hands.

_What on earth is happening?_

His mouth curved into a smile that made Bella's knees go weak. She'd thought him handsome before, but the expression transformed his face into something even more unbelievable. After a moment's hesitation, the man held out his hand, dollar notes tucked between his fingers.

If I just take the money and stop looking, everything will be fine, Bella told herself.

Then she made to take the bills from him, and her hand brushed against his.

In a way, it was unreal. And yet Bella knew: This was the most intense, the most _real_ thing she had felt in a long time. It was like pure electricity, it was as if his touch seared her skin with purest sunlight.

For a timeless second they were both perfectly still, their hands touching ever so slightly – could it be he was experiencing the same? Was it even possible?

Finally the exchange became too much. With a strength Bella hadn't thought herself capable of she withdrew her hand, ending the connection, and drew in a gasping breath because the loss felt like a physical blow. The stranger's eyes widened, as if he, too, was affected.

This couldn't be happening. She wouldn't, couldn't, dwell on it. Tearing her eyes away from that face, Bella mumbled a thanks, which probably wasn't even audible, but that was good, she had no idea what she was saying, and it had to end _now_. Without even counting the money in her hand, she turned away abruptly, hurrying over to the till on unsteady feet.

It took her a moment to register that Rose was staring at her with open curiosity. Bella had no idea what to say to her, and her face must have conveyed as much, because the other woman simply reached out and brushed Bella's hair back from her face. It was a question and the reassurance that there was no hurry to explain.

"That guy bothering you?" Rose leaned in as she asked, ensuring that nobody would overhear.

Bella forced herself to take a deep breath and exhale evenly, releasing the tension in her muscles slowly but surely. "No," she said and shook her head, barely recognising her own voice. "It's... nothing. Nothing."

Rose gave her a soft smile. "Work this side for a bit. He's gone now. I'll keep an eye on it."

Bella could only nod and follow the suggestion.

_It's nothing. It has to be._


End file.
